Anger Cannot Stand
by Sharptooth
Summary: We know that Harry had a lot of anger issues after the Tri-Wizard Tournament. What if he found what he needed to deal with those issues when he got to Headquarters? AU, oneshot, HP/HG. Rated T for a brief bit of language.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything other than the story line . All rights belong to J.K. Rowling

**Anger Cannot Stand**

The broom ride to the brownstone that Harry now found himself in had been long, cold and tiring. He was here at last, yet he didn't really know how he felt about that. His friends had been here all along, and yet he had not been allowed to join them. His confusion was only outweighed by his mounting fury and having been left in the dark.

Did they think he was a mushroom? It seemed so to him. Just like a mushroom he was made to try and grow with no light, and fed a whopping pile of shite.

And just what was it that they were getting at telling him to behave? He had done so much more than anyone else. Truthfully, nobody else here had done so much at such a young age. Oh, he presumed that wizards like Mad-Eye Moody and Dumbledore had done more and faced more in their lives; and certainly Sirius had faced twelve years of horror while he was incarcerated in Azkaban, but given his age and relative experience, none could touch what he had accomplished.

Now he found himself approaching a room where a lot of angry voices were coming from. Most of the others had already disappeared in there. As he continued his approach Harry could see the familiar visages of his Godfather, Sirius Black, and his Godfather's best friend: Remus Lupin.

For the first time that night, Harry smiled. It was so good to see them again. He went to step into the room only to find his progress blocked by Mrs. Weasley. She gave him a brief hug and quickly informed him that he wasn't allowed in the room. He wasn't allowed? He had been isolated for weeks, and now he was being told that he couldn't see the only family member he had left? Just who the _fuck _did this woman think she was?

He was just about to tell her off, he was so mad, when she abruptly turned and went back through the door, giving him directions that would take him upstairs to his supposed friends. It hacked him off think that they had been there together without him. As he walked up the stairs he just couldn't help himself. He lashed out at the wall. With a cloud of dust and bits of broken plaster it gave way. Unfortunately his knuckles impacted with something quite hard behind the plaster. He felt the bones in back of his last two fingers shatter as he yelped in pain.

Clutching his hand to him, he slowly made his way to the room he had been directed to. Could he do this? Could he actually face the two people that he had valued above all others? Could he handle it if his worst fears were confirmed and they had decided that they were better off without him? It made sense to him. Why else would they have been so vague in their letters to him? Maybe it would be better if he just left. He could do so easily, everyone else was in the other room. He could just sneak back downstairs and out the door, and then, well, he would make his way to Diagon Alley…

He contemplated this for a short time, all the while the throbbing of his hand making him feel a little more crazed than he had before. He finally decided that he had to see Hermione one more time at least. She had always stuck by him, and he wanted to find out why this had suddenly changed. As he thought of her he remembered the kiss that she had placed on his cheek. He brought his hand up to touch the spot that she had kissed him and he winced in pain.

Great, now he would associated that brief moment of pleasure with the pain in his hand. Was he doomed to forever associate everything with the pain that it brought him?

Summoning up his Gryffindor courage he went to the door and opened it. He stepped into the room, and before he could even see who was there he was almost knocked off his feet by a bushy-haired missile. He found himself engulfed in a tremendous hug. He swore that he could feel two of his ribs crack under the strain that Hermione was putting on him. He couldn't help but notice just how good it felt to be in her arms though.

"Merlin, let the man breathe, Hermione," Harry heard his friend Ron say. Hermione tried to pull back but Harry was having none of that. For the first time this summer, something actually felt right. He couldn't say that he actually understood it, but it felt as if he belonged here, holding Hermione in his arms.

Finally, he let her go enough to pull back in his arms. He held her there, and gazed at her face. There were tears streaming down her cheeks, but she was smiling at him. It confused him for a moment, but even he could eventually determine that these were happy tears. He looked at her eyes. They were so rich and expression-full. He could see so much in the chocolate brown of her eyes. He could see joy at his being here, concern for his well-being, and something else was there, something he couldn't quite put into words.

He realized at that moment just how much he liked to look at her. She had a perfectly shaped face. Long and narrow, with wonderfully defined cheekbones, he marveled that he had never noticed before just how beautiful his best friend had become. Her lips were full and luscious, and they were curled up in a warm smile.

He reached up with his left hand and brushed some of the tears from her cheeks. As his hand brushed her cheek he could feel something incredible stirring within him. It was something he didn't think he had ever felt before. His stomach was doing flip-flops, and he found that he was trembling slightly. His breath had become hitched, and he felt like he had to remind himself to breath regularly.

This was a much more intense feeling than he had ever felt before. Oh, he had felt funny when he looked at Cho Chang, but if he were truthful it was never like this. His adolescent crush on the Ravenclaw seeker had been nothing compared to the rush of sensation he was experiencing now.

As he looked into her eyes he realized that he would forgive her anything at all, whatever it might be. It suddenly seemed unimportant that he had endured so much pain over the last couple of months. It didn't matter anymore that he had suffered at Voldemort's hand. So long as Hermione was a part of his life he could deal with anything else…

It hit him then, like he had been punched in the gut. He suddenly understood what was going on. He was in love with his best friend! He was in love with Hermione! And not only was he in love with her, he wanted her so badly that he could barely contain himself.

He had never experienced physical affection from anyone other than Hermione before. She was the only one that gave him the small touches that meant so much to him. She was the one that would give him hugs just because he needed them. She was the one that would take his hand when he was hurting. She was the one that had kissed his cheek on the platform after they had gotten off the train.

It had always been her. He knew that now. She was the only one that he allowed to do those things. She was the only one that he felt comfortable enough with to let her touch him. She was the only one that he wanted to touch him. It was always her.

"Hermione," he croaked, suddenly having a hard time talking. Before she could reply he had closed the distance between them and his lips had found hers. It started soft and gentle, an exploration of the feelings that existed between the two of them. Then she let out a soft moan into his lips and the vibration drove all thoughts from his head.

He felt her tongue brush across his lips and he opened his mouth to allow her to deepen the kiss. He felt her hands come up and through his hair, driving him wild. He brought his hands up behind her and into her hair, ignoring the pain that his injured hand gave him. How could something so minor as a broken hand compare with this?

He had no idea how long they stood there, locked into their embrace. He was completely oblivious to the shocked cry that came from Ron when he started kissing her. He never noticed when the twins apparated in, took one look at the two of them and flashed them the thumbs-up, only to disapparate out right after. He took no notice of Ginny coming in and looking at them, shocked at first, and then accepting. He never realized it when she settled down on one of the beds with a smirk and motioned for her brother to join her, waiting for the two new lovers to notice that there were other people there.

Several minutes later Harry and Hermione finally separated. Air had eventually become an issue, and the two of them reluctantly moved apart. Grinning like a mad man, Harry wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist. He looked around and saw Ron and Ginny looking at them from the bed. Ginny was smirking, and Ron looked completely gob-smacked.

He looked back at Hermione. She was blushing madly, but she had a very satisfied look on her face that reminded Harry of the cat that just caught the canary.

He had been quite mad when he had arrived here, thinking that it had been a really crappy summer holiday. Now, as he thought about it, he realized two things: anger cannot stand against the power of love, and that it was a brilliant holiday after all…

**Author's Note: **Just a little one-off that I couldn't get out of my head. Hope you liked it.

Sharptooth


End file.
